


I fell in Love with an Angel named Michaelis

by notkewlio



Category: Original Work
Genre: 1920s, Alcohol, M/M, Original Character(s), Speakeasies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 22:23:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5945368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notkewlio/pseuds/notkewlio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little story I did for a class, I wrote another version (this version) to satisfy my need for them actually being together, not just hinted at.<br/>A boy (an angel) takes a boy (a war vet) out to drink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I fell in Love with an Angel named Michaelis

**Author's Note:**

> I thought this was cute and totally worth my time *cough* like two extra hours *cough* so im posting it here.  
> Also, to my Haikyuu fans, i plan on posting something soon! Im working on a kagehina fic :3cc

1921, June

 

“Smith, you never go out with me anymore.”

“You know, there’s kind of a reason for that.” I said. My best friend Michaelis was constantly pestering me to go out with him, to go party, do something wild, but I almost always denied him.

“Oh come on! Smith, please. One night, one night in a speakeasy, dancing, drinking, women and men, you’ll wear that blue outfit I like so much-”

“No, Michaelis.” I sat back in my chair, swirling the liquid in my wine glass around. My chair was comfortable, inviting. Why would I want to leave my precious chair?  
“Listen, I know that since you got back from being a nurse in the Great War you’ve been a bit antisocial, but I'm trying to help you!” Michaelis pushed his bottom lip into a pout. He stood before me, his hands on his hips, head cocked to one side, blue eyes challenging.

“I don’t understand how drinking cheap alcohol is going to ‘help’ me.”

“It’ll help you relax, Smith! You need to relax, you need to forget the war, and come spend the night partying with me.” I lifted my wine glass to my mouth and drank. I set the clear glass back on my side table, watching the dark red liquid swirl around for a moment.

I pushed my lips together, debating my next response. How could I forget the war?

As soon as the Great War ended in 1918, I felt like I could breathe again. The pressure of being a nurse in the war made my lungs feel like they were filled with lead. So much responsibility, so much danger, all these precious lives resting in my hands. 

One life in particular.

Michaelis Ingram, a young soldier who was shot through the shoulder. Bright blue eyes, light brown hair, a sunny freckled face that always held a smile, even when he had to be held down and the bullet forcefully removed from his shoulder. 

I was the one who pulled that tiny little heavy curse of a bullet from his mangled skin.

He was my first experience with blood, with raw muscle, with barely muffled screams. I would never forget him.

After that, he wouldn’t leave me alone. He said I was exactly the kind of person he had hoped to meet in the war, someone he could take home and spend the rest of his days with, someone who could put up with his never ending shenanigans and crazy spirit and help him out of sticky situations. I had told him day after day that, no, I refuse your offer of friendship, but when he was healed enough to go home, I found myself missing his warm smile. He was definitely the kind person who left an impression on anyone he met.

I was at least 3 years his senior, but he always treated me like we had grown up together, gone to school together. It was strange. His personality was almost like a drug, it was addictive, it left an impression. Sometimes I felt like I  _ had  _ gone to school with him and known him for years.

I sighed. “Last time I went out with you, I woke up the next day in a jail cell, Michaelis. A jail cell.”

Michaelis snorted. “Okay, you did, but it wasn't my fault that guy didn't know you have fast reflexes and always carry a gun with you!”

“I shouldn't have to use my gun, stupid! It's because you mingle with people you shouldn't that I have to go in and save your sorry drunken self.”

“Well, I got you out, didn't I? You didn't even have to pay bail.” Michaelis said, as if that simply waved away the problem.

“That's because you flirted with the guardsman until they let me go. Michaelis, I really don't want-”

“For me?” Michaelis said. His blue eyes grew big as he made a pouting face. “Just one more night, just for me. It anything bad happens, I won't ask you out again. Just one night, with me.”

For a long moment I stared hard at Michaelis. Those puppy dog eyes could get him anything he wanted and he  _ knew _ that. I'd like to be able to say I was immune to those sparkling eyes, but… Michaelis was a pretty guy. He had handsome features and delicate eyes. 

I sighed, looking away from him, feeling a defeated heat in my face. “Fine.”

“Oh, thank you!” Michaelis leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Come on, I've already got it all planned out. There's this new speakeasy in town and I've been absolutely dying to go. It's called Krazy Kat. It's absolutely the bee’s knees, from what I've heard.”

I stood up, stretching my arms above my head. I could feel Michaelis's eyes on me, probably resting where my shirt had pulled up just enough to show a bit of my hip. I reached down to my side table and lifted my glass, taking one last sip of the sweet tasting wine. 

“Fine, alright. We can go there. But you're paying.” I said, pointing my finger at Michaelis.

Michaelis nodded eagerly, his wavy hair flopping over his eye. “Of course, Smith. I wouldn't have it any other way.”

“I guess I should dress better than this,” I said, looking down at my clothes. I had planned to spend the night in, so I had just thrown on some old outfit that had gone out of style during the war.

“Wear that blue outfit!” Michaelis exclaimed. “It looks so great on you, it complements your dark eyes and your slight build.” 

He complimented me all the time, and he was never shy about it, but each time it made my heart race. “Fine, I guess.” I said, once again giving into those puppy dog eyes.

 

Michaelis was waiting for me at the door when I was done changing. He smiled at me, his pearly white teeth in full view.

“Oh wow, you look great!” he bounced on his heels in excitement. 

I looked away, skin feeling warm. Again with the compliments. His compliments always were so genuine and honest, anyone with a heart would be affected by them.

“Well, enough dawdling, Michaelis. Let’s go.”

“Sure thing, Smith!” He offered his elbow, and I hooked my arm through his.

As we walked down to the corner club, I thought about the last time he said my first name. It had been a while. To him, I had always been Smith, ever since the day they brought him to me on a stretcher. He knew my first name, of course, but he never called me by it. For him to say my first name, it meant he was either in intense danger, or he was trying to entice me into something he knew I wouldn’t be able to resist.

It was nearly 6 o'clock by the time we got into the speakeasy. The new lights and signs glowed, pushing brightness into the dark of the falling night. The music simply oozed out between the doors, between the people trying to get in, saxophones and piano notes catching everyone's attention.

Somehow Michaelis lead me to the front of the line. He flashed a smile at the man at the door, and without a single word, he let us in. I could hear the people waiting behind us call out in annoyance.

Any of the guilt I might have felt for skipping line like that disappeared as my eyes fell on the room spread out before me. In the dim light, I could see the band distantly at one end of the room, tucked out of the way of the dancers. They played wild and free, sparking a rhythm that the dancers swayed to in the center of the room. Along one wall was a bar, attended by men and women. It framed with a gigantic mirror behind the bar that showed a perfect reflection of the dancers. There were tables dotted along the room for people to stand and chat at.

There were so many people. Girls from ages 15 to 35 were roaming around, smart new short haircuts, straight dresses, strings of beads dangling off of dainty wrists and necks. There were also boys of the same age range, dressed in sharp suits and slick hair. The place was absolutely packed. They all carried this  _ energy _ , this carefree fun that I usually avoided for a sense of self preservation, knowing that it could very easily end in chaos. But tonight, here with Michaelis, I let that energy flow into my skin and fill my lungs.

I promised him one night, one night of fun. I would give it to him.

Michaelis led me to the bar. He quickly ordered us drinks.

“Cheers!” he said, raising his glass.

I raised mine and gently tapped it against his. “Cheers.” we drank, letting the liquid warm our bodies.

“I know only one drink for you will help you enjoy tonight, smith, but I'm going to have another.” Michaelis smiled at me over the rim of his glass. I watched him as he drank, his lips pushing against the glass. He set the glass down, pink tongue darting out to catch the last drops of liquid off of his lips. I swallowed, hard. It was then that I decided to have another one too, and when Michaelis didn’t finish his third, I finished it for him.

The evening was a blur.

I remember it, but not very clearly- whether that was the alcohol or the party atmosphere- I don't know.

I can clearly recall a tall gentleman who said his name was Tucker. He introduced himself, slid between me and Michaelis with a few sly words. He called me a fairy. He said I was beautiful. Tucker didn't seem to be drunk, but his wandering hand slid up my arm like he had lost control of himself.

I don't remember him leaving. I do remember Michaelis’s blue eyes clear as day as he told me something about Tucker. Something not horribly important, I assume, because I don't remember exactly what he said. I only remember the possessive glare Michaelis shot at the dance floor, presumably where Tucker was.

I know I danced. I danced a lot. I knew the next day I would wake up with sore muscles, but I danced my heart away anyway. Each song had a simple tune, a catchy melody and a drifting voice that just swept me away in senseless wonder. I danced.

Michaelis did too, of course. He danced more than I did. He danced with me, he danced with pretty ladies and tall men, he danced with girls younger than him and women much older than him. He danced with me, he always came back to me, with a bright smile, a flush to his face, his body pressed to mine, hips swaying dangerously close to mine, a new funny little story to tell about the girl he just danced with. 

In the dim light it was hard to see his freckles. I knew they were there, I had counted them many times over, it just kind of bothered me that I couldn’t see them.

I don’t remember what time it was when he said there would be fireworks. I personally was not a fan of fireworks, but I knew Michaelis loved them with child-like glee.

“I have access to the roof,” He said to me, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the music, but private enough only I could hear it. “We can watch the fireworks from up there.” He smiled up at me, that same special smile that he only showed me. I told him that I would love to go up with him. He leaned closer, his face nuzzling into my neck. We still swayed to the music, for just a bit, and then he pulled away and led me back to the bar.

“One more drink, okay?” Michaelis said, pushing a glass into my hand. “Just one more.”

He had gotten two glasses of my favorite drink, one that was hard to come by in newer speakeasies. He knew I liked it, and I could tell he picked it for me based on the soft smile on his lips. I could feel his eyes watching me as I lifted the glass to my lips.

“One more.” I said, and I downed the glass. It burned all the way down, but ah, it felt great. Michaelis was practically glowing at this point. Alcohol had that effect on him. He was a light weight, and he drank too much. It made his smiles easier, his laugher louder, his skin flushed. He always looked so healthy, so fresh, so delicious, it was addicting to see him like this.

He once told me he couldn’t ever tell if I was drunk or not based on how I looked. It was always how I acted, what I did. 

“For example,” Michaelis had explained, pulling aside his collar. “This is what you do when you're drunk. Didn’t even warn me.” I had given him a large lovebite, right on the side of his neck. I could only barely remember his surprised gasp, his grasping hands. “You went wild.”

I had stared at it for a moment, remembering how he had almost growled my name, his hands pushing up under my shirt. I looked away. I didn't regret it, but things like that only happened when we were drunk. It was like having a taste of something so good that as soon as it went away, you forgot what it tasted like, and didn't know if you would ever taste it again. It was addictive.

I felt drunk, just then. Drunk from this party, drunk on my alcohol, drunk on Michaelis, drunk on the happiness of living.

“It’s starting!” Michaelis’s excited voice caught my attention. “Come on, Smith! Quickly, upstairs!” He grabbed my hand and pulled. I stumbled after him.

Michaelis pushed through a door that said “Employees only” in large letters. His hair bounced as he jumped up the stairs, it was all so quick, then he was pushing open another door and we were on the roof. 

The night sky was spread out before me like a buffet of stars. Michaelis let go of my hand and bounded to the edge of the roof, his pretty face lit up by moonlight.

“When do you think they’ll start? I hope soon.” He said. He drummed his fingers on the railing of the rooftop. I slowly walked up beside him, taking in every detail I could. I remember this clearly, the sky being so dark purple it was almost pure black, the stars looking like someone had flicked white paint into the sky, Michaelis’s excited face smiling back at me.

There was such a tension coming from him. Energy is a more appropriate word, an energy that sucked me in and just  _ begged  _ me to do something brash. I had to tear my eyes away from his soft face.

“Yeah, I hope so too.” I leaned on the railing, setting my arms down. I could see the other party goers flooding into the street, waiting to see the fireworks. I was kind of glad we weren't down there. I was happy to be with him, only him, up here.

“There, look! They're setting up!” Michaelis pointed to the rooftop from across the street. I could see the outlines of a few people shuffling around on the roof.

Soon enough, a light went streaking into the sky. It exploded with a loud clap. The color rained down, fizzling out before the light could touch anything. I could hear the people below us clapping and shouting for more.

One by one, they went off into the sky, bursting with color and noise and light. I found if that I just watched it fly up with my eyes the explosion would burn white spots into my eyes. Again and again, the sky momentarily went from night to day, again and again Michaelis laughed and clapped.

“Theyre so amazing,” Michaelis said. His head was tipped back to watch them. The smooth line of his neck was only interrupted by his adam's apple, but even that was a gentle bump. I had the sudden urge to bite it. I shook my head slightly. I can't do that, not yet, at least. 

I looked at him, slowed down and really looked at him. God, he had the face of an angel. His lips were plump and soft, his nose gently rounded, his eyes so pure and bright, his eyelashes pale. I wanted to kiss him so badly it almost hurt. 

I was almost certain he knew I was staring at him, but I was almost certain he wanted me to. He wasn't even doing anything, but he was  _ teasing  _ me somehow. It made my skin burn hotly under my clothes. I wanted to devour him.

I shook my head again, more forcefully this time. These were the kinds of thoughts that were dragged out by alcohol. They were so tempting, so close to being a reality, it drove me wild. I tried to focus on the fire works again.

It seemed the fireworks ended too soon. The last one went up and went out, letting the darkness finally settle again.

“Woah,” Michaelis said, apparently speechless for once. He clapped, eyes still on the sky, hoping maybe they would set off just a few more. Down below, people went back inside. The streets grew quiet again. An atmosphere of closeness surrounded me and Michaelis.

I would have probably just been content to stand there in silence with Michaelis for the rest of the night. It was peaceful, dark, the night was cool but my skin ran hot, I just felt so at peace with the world, with myself, with Michaelis. I was happy.

“So?” Michaelis said, letting his gaze fall from the heavens back onto me. He bumped into me with a shoulder.

“So what?” I said, bumping him back.

“Did you have fun?” He asked. Had he moved closer? I could feel his body heat. His eyes were glowing, and I imagined he felt as happy as I did.

“I don't know.” I said, faking a frown. “Maybe I had a horrible time.” I glanced at him, and almost burst out laughing at his horrified face.

“Hey!” He said as I let a smile slide onto my face. I didn't even try to contain my laughter. “Don't pull my leg like that! I thought you really didn't like it! But you did, you damn liar.” He smacked me lightly in the chest.

“Yeah, I did.” I smiled at him. It felt good to smile.

He tipped his head to the side, smirking triumphantly. “See, Smith? Going out with me isn't so bad.” 

“I guess you’re right.” He was smiling so wide, standing so close, and any will I had to resist just broke into pieces. I leaned down and kissed him. 

He kissed back as if he had been waiting for this all night. Which, maybe he had. He tasted of sweet alcohol, and I just drank him up. His hands were pushing up my shirt, just enough to slide his fingertips against my skin, tickling across my back. Michaelis’s heart was beating against my chest. 

“Charlie,” he murmured, and oh fuck, my first name. He  _ knew  _ what that did to me. I pulled him even closer, asking him silently to open himself to me, to let me taste what heaven tastes like, to give himself to me, and he did.

He always did.

 


End file.
